Break the Faith (The Breaking Trilogy Book 3)

by M. Mabie

  “What would that hurt?” There was no shame in needing help. She was doing something hard as hell.

  “Probably nothing, but the tutor is that grouchy girl from my class.” She whispered, “Another bitch.”

  That was curious. Why would a person who tutored need to attend prep courses?

  I leaned back and crossed my arms, interested.

  She continued, “And there is no way I’m paying her to help me. I don’t care how smart she thinks she is. No, thank you. I’m past letting inconsiderate people bother me.” The color in her cheeks became opaquer and the flush spread down her neck.

  Her jaw rocked.

  Was Myra pissed?

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I’ll just study harder. It’s not like there’s any rush now. Hobby Lobby isn’t even hiring.”

  God, she was sweet and wound up too. She looked at her finger, covered in the sticky treat and set down the fork and dish. She stretched for a napkin, but before she could reach it, I leaned forward and put my mouth around the fruity digit.

  She froze and watched me as I played with it and licked it clean.

  “There. All better,” I said as I examined it in front of my face.

  Slowly, she twisted to the side and ran the same finger through the pan again. Without breaking eye contact, she smeared it on her neck. “Oops.”

  It was a dare, and I took it.

  I stood and pitched forward faster than she expected causing her to yip just before my mouth met her skin. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?”

  Her eyes glazed over and her lids became heavy as she answered, turning her face just enough to meet my gaze. “Yeah, but I don’t listen to them anymore.”

  Loving that answer, my tongue swiped her raspberry skin. If I had a weakness for that dessert before, it was two-fold now. It would have been easy to keep loving on her, but I wanted to see where she’d take it. In her own delicious way, she was telling me exactly what she wanted and where.

  How could I resist?

  When I’d savored all the sugary goodness she’d left for me, I stood before her and waited to see what she’d do next. When she looked at my lips, she licked hers, chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

  “More?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  Without missing a beat, she lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it somewhere behind me. It didn’t go unnoticed that her hands trembled, but she had no reason to be scared. No, her dilated blue eyes explained that she was excited, maybe nervous, but that was okay.

  All this was new, and not just for her. I would have been lying if I said my heart wasn’t hammering and my jeans weren’t uncomfortably tight in the groin. Still, I let her lead.

  I knew what it was like to have fantasies, and if this was one of hers, I was only too happy to make it a reality. We could get just as sticky and messy as she wanted. That’s what showers were for, and I had to admit I had some fantasies of my own we could live out under the hot water later if she was interested.

  This time with two fingers, she swiped raspberry across the top of her lace-covered breast.

  There’d been many times I’d wondered if she were ready for things, if she knew what she was doing to me, or if we were taking things too far, too fast. This was not one of those times.

  She was ready.

  She was well aware.

  Maybe we both needed things to go too far, too fast that night.

  I’d let her be the judge.

  I didn’t break eye contact as I left my seat at the counter, slid my hand around the back of her round backside, and drug her to the edge nearer to me. With one bold glance down at her chest, she silently instructed me to feast on her.

  So I did. No hesitation. No curbing my hunger. No right or wrong song and dance playing through my mind. No holding back, I ravaged her. Like a wild animal starved. Like a man losing his mind. My lips and mouth and tongue and greedy hands nipped and pawed and went at her.

  She moaned and held me to her breast by the hair. Each time her grip on me tightened, so did my urgency to taste more of her. Her flesh and the fruit had become one to my senses, and I’d never be full of Myra.

  The way she shivered under my touch would never get old. How she clung to me in desperate moments would always have pride swelling in my chest. She’d let me savor her, and I’d never refuse.

  I was hell bent and already addicted to her pleasure.

  So much so, that by the time I’d heaved her from the bar top, pulled her pants and panties down around her ankles, and knelt before her spread hind cheeks, the only thing that would stop me would be her saying no.

  She didn’t, but instead, bent over the stool surrendering to the moment. So I buried my face between her parted legs. I lapped and sucked at her swollen lips until she bucked. Like coaxing a string through the eye of a needle, I threaded my tongue into her from behind.

  “Oh my,” she panted above me.

  Then my fingers caressed the sensitive mount at the front of her, and she grew wetter on my mouth.

  It was so damn good.

  She cried out my name and whimpered as she found a climax like I’d never witnessed her have. Before it flew away like a dove on hunt for its mate, I rose and pulled myself free of my jeans. Then ran my hand over my beard gathering the slickness I’d need, knowing she was wetter than ever which was hopefully enough.

  Over her shoulder, she gave me a look. It was pleading. Needy.

  One hand on her naked back, and the other holding myself, I pressed forward. There was resistance, beautiful resistance, and I nearly backed away.

  Until I heard her whisper, heard her beg, “Don’t stop. Please, Abe. Don’t stop.”

  Inch by pulsing inch, I wedged into her. She was perfect. Our fit was tight and all consuming. There was no way to know where my flesh ended and hers began.

  I didn’t want to waste it. Couldn’t yet bring myself to go fast. There was no need to because the slow grind of our bodies working together was almost more than I could bear. My ears rang. My hips bucked every time they met her flush at her backside.

  She rolled herself against me and it fantastically went on and on.

  I hunched forward and inched my shirt up my chest just to feel my skin against hers as we moaned the rawest, most erotic sounds I’d ever heard. The wooden stool I’d built was holding out, but the time had come where I couldn’t any longer.

  My hand snuck through the space between her side and her arm and hooked onto her shoulder from the front. With the other I squeezed her hip, hoping not to bruise her, and then my vision blurred.

  “Ah.” I needed just a bit more, just a bit deeper, and I went up on my toes. “Ah, ah.” And there it was. “Yes.”

  I thrusted into her, almost savagely, as my load pulsed out of me and into her.

  My muscles tensed, twitched, tensed again, and then a second wave hit me all at once.

  “Myra,” I shouted, my forehead against her spine. “Ahhh.”

  She sagged against the chair, and I feared I’d hurt her.

  As I kicked off my shoes and then my pants the rest of the way, I lifted her up into my arms. Her body was limp against my chest and I kissed her forehead. The only thing that brought me any comfort was her weak smile and the way she lazily looked at me like I was her entire world.

  I walked us straight to the tub and since she was completely naked by then, I sat down inside it, turned the faucet on, and then shucked off my t-shirt.

  All I wanted to do was tend to her. Wash her. Give to her.

  For Heaven’s sake, she gave me everything.

  17

  Myra

  We’d shared a shower, but it differed from taking a bath. Abe’s tub—or our tub, whichever—was bigger than most I’d been in, but it was still a close fit for both of us to sit in. I didn’t mind so much though because I enjoyed being near him. Had we been in any sort of hurry, it would have been a challenge to get clean and rinse
d.

  Luckily, we were in no rush at all.

  After I caught my breath and returned to Earth from what we’d done in the kitchen, I sat up and stretched my arms and back and spun around to the other side of the tub to face him. My messy bun had fallen apart, so I quickly put it back up into a tighter one.

  “So how do you do this?” Abe asked and lifted his hands out of the clear water. His body was somewhat distorted where it was submerged, but he was so big and lanky that his legs were bent along the sides exposing most of him to me.

  In kind, with no bubbles to arrange for modesty, I was bare to him too. He wasn’t shy about it, so I didn’t even let shame or self-consciousness enter my mind. What was the point? After what we’d shared at the island in the other room, what did I have to hide?

  He’d seen all of me and probably more.

  “A bath?” I asked. Of all things to know more about than someone else.

  “Yeah. How does this go?”

  “You haven’t taken a bath?”

  He made a fist in the water and squeezed it so it shot water at me. “Not since I was a kid.”

  “You’ve never had a bath with a woman before?” I wasn’t jealous, but I liked when we did things for the first time together. This could be another one of those.

  “Nope. Never showered with one either.” He shrugged and then rearranged my feet to flank his hips instead of where they were between his legs. “Safety first,” he explained. “Now tell me all I need to know about baths.”

  I chuckled, loving his lightheartedness. There were so many things that felt out of control, but in moments like the one we were having he could erase my stress with that lopsided, scruffy half-grin of his. “I suppose it depends on what kind of bath you’re having. Is this a soak or a bath bath?”

  “I have no clue. What’s the difference?”

  “Well, they have two completely different sets of goals. One is mostly for relaxation and peaceful, quiet time. One is for getting clean.”

  He seemed to think on that and squinted at me before answering, “Because I’m curious, explain the bath bath, please.”

  “It’s mostly all business and much quicker. First, I wet my hair under the clean water and lather it with shampoo. Then I rinse it with this.” I angled my arm above my head where I’d put a small white hobnail pitcher I’d found at a resale shop. “I pour clean water from the faucet over my head. Then I use conditioner and wash my body. If I need to shave, I let some water out and do that. Then I rinse my hair and body with clean water again and I’m done.”

  “Simple enough. And this soak you mentioned?” His arms perched on the sides made his biceps look massive. He was such a man and seeing him in the tub like that charmed me. He seemed to be okay with it though, relaxed as he was against the porcelain opposite me.

  “Those are my favorite. I rarely wash my hair when I take a soak bath, but I do wash up. If I have to shave, I do that first and then run brand new water. Then I might use some bubble bath that smells good or a use some bath oil. Sometimes a bath bomb.” All of which I kept in a wicker basket on the open, bottom shelf of the vanity. “All that is over there.”

  As soon as my words left my mouth, he was standing and slumping over the side to reach the container with my soaking things. When he sat back into the water, it sloshed side to side almost making the contents splash over the sides.

  He studied the things, and after digging around he lifted a small bottle of bath oil I’d found at a local gift shop near the grocery store.

  Abe read the label out loud. “Eucalyptus. Soothing essential oils for a calming bath. Castor seed and safflower oils.” Impressively, with one hand he unscrewed the dropper enough to lift it and give it a sniff. “I’ve smelled that on you before. I like it.”

  That didn’t surprise me at all because it was earthy without being too flowery or sweet. He tightened the cap, dropped it in the basket, and lifted a round bath bomb. It was wrapped in plastic, so he didn’t get much when he took a whiff. “Rosehip, huh?”

  “I think that one is sparkly,” I warned. I didn’t mind, but I couldn’t imagine he’d like it.

  He tossed it back into the square basket and brought the oil back out before setting the container on the floor beside the tub. He read the back of the bottle and then pulled the dropper out and squirted it in the water twice. I usually only did one, but there were two of us.

  Like always, I moved my arms through the water to mix it around and instantly the room was filled with the fresh scent.

  “Grab your soap and come over here, please,” he said. When I did, he added, “And turn around.”

  Sitting between his legs, he opened the bottle I’d had on the shelf, poured it into his hands, and then began rubbing my shoulders with his slippery fingers. It felt nice, and soon I noticed my neck rolling, side to side.

  I doubted my shoulders and back were all that dirty, but I didn’t even care. When his hands began to move to my front, I reclined on him and let him rub me all over. It was sensual, but it didn’t feel like he was initiating anything. It was sweet the way he tended to me.

  He kissed the back of my head and eventually, we were just lying in the warm water together. Soaking, and it was so utterly relaxing.

  “I went to the bank today. In the morning, I’ll write you a check for your money.”

  I hadn’t been worried about it. “I just cash it like last time?”

  “That’s right. And there’s a property the bank owns that might be a great spot for my shop and store.”

  It was big news and had me flipping over in his arms to face him.

  “Really? Are you going to buy it?” I couldn’t keep the enthusiasm out of my voice.

  He blinked and remained calm. “It needs some work, and I still have to walk through it and everything. I only looked through the windows, but it could work out. I want you to go look at it with me.”

  In every way, he was so special and different from any man I’d ever known. It was unheard of for a man to rely on his wife for business decisions back home. I was humbled and honored that he wanted to share the experience with me.

  “I don’t know much,” I admitted. I’d certainly go for support though.

  “Well, you’ve seen where I’m working now. So you might have some thoughts on it.”

  “Sure.” I slid up his chest and gave him a quick kiss. “Are you excited? That’s your dream, isn’t it?”

  “I want to be excited, and I am. I guess I’m just cautious. Nothing is ever done until it’s done. And I’d hate leaving the Griers when they need me.”

  He was such a good man.

  “Abe, they’ll be happy for you.”

  He nodded, knowing I was right. “It’s a big step. I might be working longer hours. What if I get in there and then it all goes south?”

  “What if it doesn’t?”

  There hadn’t been many times in my life when I’d felt needed, valued. And although I’d only known Abe a short amount of time, he didn’t often show insecurities. I’d always thought he simply didn’t have any. The way he spoke confidently about what he believed, his morals, his work ethic. How he seemed so sure of himself made him tough to me.

  But there in that tub, hearing such a strong man voice such unfounded doubt made me look at him in a new light. He’d been my hero. My guide. My friend. Now he was my lover and my partner. It was only fair that I be willing to step up when he needed someone to lean on.

  I felt an overwhelming sense of pride that he’d chosen me, wanted my opinion, needed my support.

  He didn’t reply and his hands continued to stroke up and down my back.

  “If this is your dream, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. You’ve done so much for me, and I love you. Of course I’ll go with you and I’ll learn and do whatever you need me to because I want to.” I meant every word. “I want you to be happy.”

  “You make me happy.”

  My heart could have burst.

  18

&n
bsp; Abe

  We were in the tub, and then it felt like a blink and I was pulling us up at the old Stephen’s Electric building on Friday to walk through it with Myra, the banker, and a realtor. My girl was grinning ear to ear as she hopped out of the truck after deciding to skip math class and come with me.

  “I’m excited to go inside,” she said and jogged up to the window. “When I looked in here yesterday, I couldn’t believe how perfect would be. This building is huge, Abe.”

  I was still skeptical if it would pan out or maybe I was just waiting for a shoe to drop, knowing what was said about things seeming too good to be true.

  Then again, Myra was beyond too good and she was the truest thing—person—I’d ever known, and she chose to be with me.

  She spun back to me at the curb with her hand blocking the sun from her eyes. “It’s so perfect too because right over there is a paint and flooring store and down the street is an appliance place. A furniture store—a custom, hand crafted furniture store—is what the area needs.”

  Her excitement was infectious, and I was quickly coming down with a case of it too.

  It was just within my grasp.

  “Abe,” called Lindy. “Sorry, I’m a few minutes behind.” She briskly walked across the street, holding out her hand. “And Myra, I’m so glad to see you here too. What do you think so far?”

  “I love it,” Myra replied. “It’s exactly what he needs.”

  “Maybe we should take a walk through it first,” I contended. Hell, there could be so much work to do that it might not be worth it. Sure, sometimes things fall into your lap, but this was too important to be impulsive. I wanted it to work out more than anyone, but I wasn’t about to jump at the first opportunity just because it came along.

  I needed to think like a businessman. Hell, I damn near had to be one.

  “That’s Fiona pulling in over there. She has the keys.”

  “A woman?” Myra asked.

  “Yes, Fiona Waterkotte. She and her husband own the agency who is listing the property.”